


safe in a storm

by Nakimochiku



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Listen, I think I'm gonna off myself if I spend one more night in this place alone. Stay."</p>
            </blockquote>





	safe in a storm

Levi didn’t think he was a particularly sentimental man. Nor even an affectionate one. But when he was packing up his life into a single suitcase to move to some log cabin in the ass crack of the north, where everything was snow and silence, he’d grabbed a ratty shoebox of pictures from under the bed and took it with him.

He wasn’t much for photography in his old life, he muses, tracing a picture of Petra with a disposable camera held up to her eye. There is a matching one of Hanji with her precious Nikon right under it. Almost all the pictures filling the shoe box, littering the kitchen table, had been taken by them. He bought a scrap book in his first week of living in the cabin, sorting through each picture, organizing them into neat piles, dating them in black marker at the back. There was no point being so meticulous, as no one would ever see the scrap book, but he needed something to do other than clean and shovel snow and hunt.

He pastes each picture down according to year. He watches Hanji grow older with each picture he glues; watches Erwin grow a fantastically horrendous beard, just to shave it off again. It’s when he gets to the period before he left that he slows. There’s Erd, teasing Nanaba about something. Erwin flushed and laughing as Hanji presses a kiss to his cheek. Petra and he in front of some land mark. She’s grinning, her arm around his shoulder, while he glares directly into a camera. He looks younger there, somehow, though the picture is barely a year old, and wishes he knew then what he knows now.

He was happy.

A group photo, lying at the bottom of his chosen pile, makes Levi bite his lip. Everyone’s in it, gathered close. He remembers the jostling as they all got into position. He remembers pushing Mike away from him for being too tall, grudgingly letting Hanji and Petra both hang on him. He’s smiling in the photo, just a small twist of his mouth.

Levi sighs heavily and leans back in the creaky kitchen chair, rubbing his eyes. He’s fucking lonely. He wants to go home. He wants to see his fuckwit family. This fucking cabin is going to drive him mad.

A knock interrupts him, and for a second, old instincts lance through him. He’s on his feet and crouched low, ready to defend himself, before he remembers there’s no dangers in these parts. At least, not from anything that can knock on the door. He sighs again and berates himself. It’s just the kid that comes up the mountain every so often to drop off supplies and help around the cabin.

He opens the door to the anxious looking teen. It’s snowing gently outside, thick fluffy flakes gathering in the boy’s eyelashes, framing his bright green eyes. His shivers, cheeks rosy, and gives a shy smile. “Afternoon, sir.” He chirps. “Sorry I’m late, it was snowing pretty heavily in the pass. I think it’s gonna storm.”

“Yeah?” Levi allows drily, and steps aside to let the boy in. The cabin is cozy. It smells of lemon pledge and coffee. Eren tries for another smile as he stamps his boots on the welcome mat, and shakes the snow off his hat. It’s a childish looking thing, with a pompom at the top, and Levi suppresses a smirk, and goes around to the kitchen. “You wanna cuppa coffee, before you head back out there?” Levi asks as Eren sets down the supply crate on the counter, prying it open.

Eren looks torn. He looks at the crate, at the cabin door, at Levi’s hands holding two mugs, and back again. “Sure?” he replies uncertainly, taking off mittens that match his childish hat.

“Don’t be a shit, brat. It’ll keep you warm while you work.” He pours the coffee, puts milk and sugar in the brat’s and keeps his own black. He wonders when precisely he’d started looking forward to Eren’s bi weekly visits. It’s not as though he talks much beyond small voiced greetings, but he’s a cute kid, diligent and hardworking; Levi appreciates that. He unpacks the crate, chops and stacks firewood, and leaves. It’s not as though he needs the help. He’s said as much. But Eren merely smiles and says he needs the job.

 Eren dutifully gulps his coffee down, trying to hide his grimace of distaste for the flavour. “You’re still such a child.” Levi chuckles, sipping at his own chipped mug, holding it in his strange way that Hanji used to laugh at him for. Eren’s eyes flash.

“Hey! I’m nineteen you know!” He snaps. Levi lifts an eyebrow, and snorts into his mug. “Don’t gimme that look, I act like an adult!”

“Your hat has a pompom on it.” Levi retorts. Eren flushes, and touches the top of his hat in embarrassment. He pulls out a cigarette from his jeans pocket, and lights it, taking a long drag. “It’s alright though. You’re a cute kid, when you’re not acting like a shit.”

Eren goes still then. He stares at the table, and drinks his coffee demurely, while Levi wonders blandly what he’d said. He’s flushed right to the tips of his ears. “Thanks for the coffee sir.” He murmurs. “I’ll just... go chop that firewood.” He pulls his hat down over his ears, slips the matching mittens back on, and trudges out into the snow.

Levi stands at the window watching him for a bit as he sips his coffee. Through the glass he can hear the swing and thunk of the axe slicing through wood. It’s hard work, Levi knows. He supposes beneath the poofy red jacket, Eren isn’t much of a kid. He clucks his tongue at his own thoughts, and moves back to the kitchen table.

He’s struck again by a pang of loneliness. His grip tightens on his coffee mug as he memorizes the faces of the people he’d loved, reduced to mere pictures and the faint memory of scent and noise.  He sits down heavily at the table, coffee nearly sloshing over his hand. He grins at himself then. He’s alone and pathetic now because he’d tried to do the right thing, just once, and ended up with the shorter stick because of it.

Eren knocks twice at the door before bursting in, the axe over his shoulder. “It’s snowing harder out there, so I’d better get going, I chopped you enough wood to last you the storm so –“ He stills, frowns at Levi. “Sir... you alright?”

Levi runs a hand over his face, and curses himself a bit, before he looks at Eren squarely. “I think i’m gonna off myself if I have to spend one more night in this place alone. So here’s my offer kid. Name any figure, just stay the night.”

Eren blinks dumbly. “Wha—“ for a second Levi thinks he’ll have to repeat his embarrassing request. Then Eren smoothly swings the axe over his shoulder to leave it at the door. “You don’t need to pay me sir.” He says quietly. “I’ll keep you company, if you want.” Levi’s shoulders sag with relief, and his stomach unknots. Eren begins to take off his jacket, and Levi flaps a dismissive hand at him.

“Before you take your shit off, run out to the deep freeze in the shed, and get two packages of meat.”

“Meat, sir?” Eren repeats, tipping his head like a confused puppy. Levi stands and crosses his arms, hip cocked and expression one of derision.

“Meat, idiot. For dinner. You’re hungry aren’t you?” Eren gives a slow nod, and Levi waves his hand again. “Off you go, kid.” He turns towards the kitchen, listening to Eren move back out into the snow while he goes through his supplies. They seem meagre, when he’s feeding someone else, and he sighs at the memories this too churns up. Petra had been able to whip up a feast out of a couple potatoes and a chunk of meat like magic. Levi finds himself barely scraping by.

Clicking his tongue, Levi takes out a few vegetables and inspects them, wondering how they’d taste if he just threw them into a pot. Eren bangs back through the door, shaking off snow and making a ruckus. “Cold?” Levi asks, looking over his shoulder as the kid hangs his coat on the hanger and kicks his boots off at the mat.

“Fucking freezing.” Eren grumbles. “The storm’s gotten so bad I couldn’t leave now even if I wanted to.” Levi turns away, and wonders if the kid is aware of what he implied. “Mikasa’s going to kill me.” He sets the meat on the counter, and inspects the ingredients of their dinner, plucking first at the bunch of carrots, then at the decently stocked spice rack.

“Girlfriend?” Levi asks dully, shaving the carrot skin off into the sink.

“Sister.” Eren’s silent a moment. “Want some help with dinner? I might not look it, but i can hold my own.”

“Be my guest.” Levi snorts and moves aside with an inviting wave of his arm. “You cook?”

“Let’s just say no one’s marrying Mikasa for her pot roast.” Eren replies with a smirk. He rolls up his sweater sleeves, and ties the apron Levi hands him around his neck. “You don’t look all that used to cooking for yourself, sir.” Eren says conversationally, handing him more carrots to be peeled while he fills a pot with water.

“Yeah...” Levi murmurs thoughtfully. “I’m used to cooking for myself. Just not used to it turning out well.” Eren chops the carrots deftly, and dumps them into the pot, putting another on to heat and pouring soup stock into that before moving on to thaw the meat quickly in the microwave. He seems to be everywhere at once, flying all over the kitchen as though he owns it. Levi’s content to lean against the island, pull out a beer and half heartedly nurse it, only working on tasks Eren sets him. He even forgets himself and barks orders. It makes Levi laugh, a little, makes for a refreshing  change of pace.

“What’re we having?” Levi asks as he obediently stirs the meat and soup stock mixture, watching Eren mash a pot full of carrots and spoon them into a blender. His kitchen, previously pristine, is going to hell in a hand basket, he notes distastefully. Eren seems a capable cook, but he makes a mess with everything he touches.

“Carrot soup with venison.” Eren answers, swiping the back of his hand over his forehead. The cabin is near stifling now, smelling of salty meat and savoury cooking, steam wafting up into the vent. But outside, the storm howls, growing in intensity, shaking the windows, making the fire pop and hiss as it whorls down the chimney.”Fish out the venison, yeah, and pour the soup here. I’ll go set the table.”

Eren stokes the fire before moving to the kitchen table, where he pauses to look at all the photographs. He wipes damp fingers on his jeans and touches the group one, though he can barely see Levi’s face in the light of the fire. “What’s all this?” he asks, holding up a photo for Levi to squint at. Levi moves to the table too, and clicks his tongue, placing the piles of photos back in their shoe box. Eren blinks at him in question.

“My family.” He answers shortly. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He invited Eren to stay for dinner throughout the storm so that he wouldn’t have to think about them. He places the scrap book and the shoe box on the sofa, out of the way, and moves back to the counter, pouring the carrot mixture in with the soup stock and stirring.  Eren just hums softly, as though he understands, and sets the knives and forks and spoons in a neat line.

Levi contemplates the place settings when they’re seated. He’s never once had a sit down dinner like this. When he was home, it was a mess of people yelling and chatter, forks and knives abandoned for fingers. Since moving here, to snow and silence, he’s makes dinner for one, eats alone, washes his solitary dish and coffee mug. Eren looks like he knows all about suburban family life, eats dinner every Sunday with his sister and his mother and his father and his dog. He chuckles a bit to himself at the thought.

“Something funny sir?” Eren says, looking up from his soup. He still has the apron on, his hands look a little raw from kitchen work.

“It’s that you look like a little housewife is all.” Levi intones, and takes a sip of the soup. He glances up in time to see Eren’s ears flush, rolls his eyes. “You’re a funny kid, Eren. Oh, and lose the sir. I offered to pay you money to keep me company. I think we’re past formalities now.”

Eren ducks his head, eats a spoonful of soup. Levi watches him, chin propped on his fist, swirling his spoon around in his soup, chewing tender bits of venison solemnly. “Levi.” Eren says when he looks up again, testing the name on his tongue. He clucks his tongue at him.

“Brat.” He replies.

After dinner, they sprawl on the couch, sleepy and full, fire flickering hot on their faces and cracking as wood splits. Levi is too comfortable and lazy to tell Eren to put the pictures away when he starts to flip through them. Instead, he watches Eren’s face as his smile grows progressively bigger. He doesn’t ask for anyone’s names, maybe because it wouldn’t really matter even if he knew them.

“But why did you leave?” Levi goes still, wonders if he should explain. He’s in the asshole of no where specifically so that no one ever knows but he figures once you offer to pay someone to be your friend, there really are no boundaries.

“I was mixed up with some bad people…” Levi starts, and touches the picture on top of the pile in Eren’s hands; it’s horrible and blurry, an implication of music and laughter and lights. A brownish smudge might be Hanji, the smear at the corner Auruo; he likes the photo a lot. “I was made a deal to give information on these people in exchange for freedom” He watches Eren’s eyes widen in understanding from beneath his lashes and carries on. “But the problem with deals like that is no one ever tells you what freedom costs.”

Eren nods sagely along. “You had to leave them even after you tried to protect them.” Levi’s surprised Eren understands that he did it for them; so that his family would be whole and entire, plus or minus a member. Eren looks at the pictures again, sets them on the coffee table and shifts to Levi’s side, warm and solid. Levi blinks, surprised at his audacity. He’s even more surprised when Eren’s breath ghosts warm across his cheek, his hand high on his thigh.

“Eren.” Levi says firmly, leaning back from the lips so close to his, back pressing into the arm of the chair. Eren blinks slowly, almost innocently, back at him; His body pressing him into the cushions doesn’t really lend itself to the image of innocence though. “I didn’t mean,” he gestures at the scant space between them, wonders if Eren longs to close it. “This. I didn’t mean this when I asked you to stay.”

“I know.” Eren murmurs, and presses their foreheads together. It’s a good, intimate gesture, and Levi would be hard pressed to move now. “I wanna give that to you, if you want it?” Levi pulls a face, thinks that he’s just taking advantage of some big hearted kid who finds him pathetic, and maybe Eren can read that, because he snorts his irritation, hands moving to Levi’s arms. “I hope you’re not thinking I’m incapable of making my own decisions.”

If he wants it, Eren said. Levi wants it; wants warm bodies against his own and the sound of someone else’s hearing above the biting howl of the wind, fingers and sounds to chase loneliness away. But that’s selfish of him. He wants company. Eren’s company, to be specific; but he’s content as they are, in this moment, pressed into the couch cushions with Eren’s weight solid above him.

He wraps his arms around Eren’s shoulders, buries his nose in his hair, tugging him down fully onto him. “Let’s just stay like this.” He mutters. Eren’s hair smells of smoke, shampoo, melted snow. His breath , gusting against Levi’s throat, makes him real. Eren presses a kiss there, arranges himself around Levi’s limbs, wrapping his arms around his waist.

That is all Levi needs. At least until the storm lets up.

**Author's Note:**

> FOR NEIL'S BIRTHDAY THAT WAS LITERALLY THREE MONTHS AGO OMG. Happy birthday Neil~


End file.
